Ouid Pro Quo
by Kim The Manipaltive Little Mo
Summary: Clarice gets caught in a war between two serial killers. Co-written with Jackson Davis.


This story was co-written with Jackson L. Davis and can also be found in the TV section under "Profiler." This story started being written before Christmas but numerous computer problems have prevented us from posting it before now. The time line is about 4 years after Hannibal's escape which would put it in the second season of Profiler. We don't own either set of chars, and boy if we did we would kick some people's ass for what they have done with them. Just to clear up any confusion she wrote the Jack parts and I wrote the Hannibal parts. Please leave a body part... that is comment in the little box. Thanks for reading,

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Chapter One

  
  


He surveyed the room cautiously keeping a lock out for Jack Crawford's little agents. It was a longshot of course but playing longshots was the reason he was still at large. He adjusted the brim of his fedora and walked carefully amongst the people attending the gourmet food show. They had here some of the best chiefs and techniques in the world. There was no way he was going to miss this on account of those bothersome little FBI agents. After all the only one he had to worry about was on vacation in New York.

  
  


He stood before the table were a chief was demonstrating the correct way to gel a calf's brain. Now Dr. Lector could have taught this young buck a thing or two but merely smiled and walked on to the next booth. He took a sip of the champagne swirling the exquisite tasting bubbles on his long tongue. Those eyes crimson masked by plain old brown, half closed with a sigh as he inhaled the undeniable scent of truffles coming from near by.

  
  


As he walked he told himself that soon the old world taste he loved would be quickly taken over by the new world of culture. A sneer was offered at the little child pretending to be grownups with taste. He stood before the man with the truffles a small golden fork in his steady hand. He accepted the plate with a smile small and a polite incline of his head. 

  
  


He wasn't really paying attention as he bumped into the attractive older woman across from him. She raised her glass of Chavis. As he slowly offered an apologetic bow. His eyes went wide for a moment as the woman searched his face. She couldn't see who it. No the surgery had given him a new face. But there was no denying that the look in the woman's face.

  
  


He spoke softly allowing himself to pick up her slow Southern accent. " A thousand apologies Senator. I was distracted by your beauty." The woman inclined her head quickly the look still captured on her face. But she took the complement with a gracious diplomatic smile.

  
  


"Well for talking like that I would say that you are forgiven. I must say that I seem to know ya from somewhere but can't quite place it." He gave her another smile and took her hand his cold lips pressing to it quickly.

  
  


"Well Senator I have been told I have one of those faces. I'm just lucky I guess. But I remember you from your Senate days. It is not easy to forget such a graceful beauty."

  
  


She gave a tinkling laugh in the typical southern belle style. "Well you flatter me sir who ever you are. Are you free for dinner tonight?"

  
  


He watched her considering quickly. She knew him she knew him damn it all. The only thing that he could do now was take care of the problem. He kept her hand those cold steely brown eyes peering deeply into her's. A quick smile was given and he glanced around quickly. 

  
  


"Well my dear lady I am renting a small cabin not far from here. Perhaps I could pick you up and make you some dinner. I have been know to be an excellent cook."

  
  


He gave an inward smile as he watched her give him an appraising flirtatious look. She smiled quickly also casting a look around. Her voice was lowered into a seductive whisper. "Well Mr..."

  
  


" Doctor actually Doctor Alexander Hoffman." 

  
  


"Well Doctor Alexander Hoffman are you being as we say... forward and speaking of intentions to me? Cause if you are I am accepting. What time are you gonna pick me up?"

  
  


"I shall meet you at eight o'clock this evening in the hotel lobby."

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Chapter Two

  
  


Eight o'clock. That would give him four hours to make all of the arrangements he needed to make. All the tools were laid out in a neat little pile. He would have a wonderful dinner tonight alright. He would celebrate one more being the news in the US. And tonight Clarice Starling would start looking for him once more.

  
  


He echoed his long ago thoughts of poor Catherine Martin as drove to the little cabin. Tomorrow morning she would be an orphan who was dealing in post traumatic stress disorder. He gave a small smile and thought about sending her a referral to come and see him. Yes, that would be interesting to see. Little Catherine Martin would make a wonderful case study. Perhaps in more ways then one. 

  
  


He opened the car door for her and accepted the hand she offered to help her from the car. He held tightly on to her as the walked up the old flagstone steps. The heavy door was pushed open and he offered her a smile that was more of a baring of teeth then a token of welcome. She walked in slowly, cautiously a cold fear descending over her like a shroud. A detached, odd calm crept over her spine with every step she took.

  
  


He shut the door quickly with a resounding thud. She jumped in the dim light frantically wishing that her eyes would hurry up and adjust to the to the low light. She could feel his advance on her much like the herd of antelope can feel the tiger waiting in the tall savannah grass. She looked about quickly trying to shut out the primordial panic that spread to her every cell.

  
  


She ran to the door her high-heels sliding over the highly polished wood floor. A carefully placed wire ensnared itself about her shapely ankles causing her to fall to the floor. He advanced on her slowly savoring her struggle. She kicked at the wire crawling on her hands and knees towards the door of the cabin the tears sliding unchecked over her powdered cheeks.

  
  


He stepped on the end of the wire an amused look on his face as she pulled in vain on it the slow sobbing sounds falling from her throat. She turned to face the monster her voice almost cracked. "You can't do this I am Senator Ruth Martian. I have power."

  
  


He pulled her up by her hair his scarlet eyes peering into her's. "Well I always did love your suit. I suppose I should offer you a bout of thanks but I don't think I will just yet. Trust me though I will toast you later tonight. It will be to absent friends of course but that's just the way shit happens isn't it?"

  
  


He looked at her those high cheekbones flooding with color as she struggled against him. Her perfect manicured nails rake into his chest as the long knife started it's long decent. The blade was reflected in her wide fear filled eyes and he watched for just a moment wondering if the blood would reflect as well.

  
  


Slowly with the percussion of a surgeon the blade was carefully inserted into the fatty tissue about her right breast. The blood started to seep as the blade completed it's circular motion. The breast was removed and carefully placed in a bowl as so not to damage it. She screamed of course she did wouldn't you? The left breast was removed and it joined it's made in bowl.

  
  


A cruel smile was given as the life was ebbing from the Senator and her struggles became less strong. The blade was poised over the chest cavity and as the knife was buried to the hilt Hannibal leaned over and whispered softly into her ear. " You know I find it awfully ironic that here I am about to eat something your daughter did from. Oh and don't worry about poor Catherine. I'm sure she will make a wonderful case study in more ways then one."

  
  


Once more that cruel smile was given as the fight in her was renewed. "You bastard you leave her alone! Don't you touch my little girl!"He pulled away laughing at her struggle laughing at her inner turmoil. The blade was neatly inserted between her ribs and just above the heart. He leaned closer to her that snake like crimson tongue sliding out to taste her sweat, her fear.

  
  


"Don't you worry Senator Martin. Little Catherine will be safe and sound soon. And I'm giving great thought to inviting her to a dinner just like this one. I do hope she'll enjoy it as much as you are right now."

  
  


The retort that formed on her tongue died there as the blade was rushed into the heart. A deep rattling was heard as the blood poured over the polished wood floor. He cleaned her up dressing her in a clean suit that totally resembled the one she had worn the day of their faithful meeting. 

  
  


He sat at the table enjoying an excellent breast stuffed with roasted garlic and a good freshly grated cheese. It was served on a bead of truffle ravioli. The glass of that excellent merlot was raised towards the fire burning in the grate. He spoke softly his voice filled with amusement. " To playing the game with you once more Clarice."

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Chapter 3

  
  


Clarice Starling was running in Central Park when she got the beep. A frown crossed her face as Jack's number spread across the face. She took a big sip from the water bottle she carried and then jogged quickly to a near by bench. 'Well if he's paging me now then it must be important. Jack wouldn't page me if it wasn't.'

  
  


The page could only mean to things. One was that they had caught the killer who's case she was working on... and the other. Well the other would be something to do with Dr. Lector. A shiver crept over her as the sunny warm spring day seemed to melt around her to become the cold tunnels of the hospital were she had met him.

  
  


And of course all that brought her back to his escape. He had three years on the run maybe she had caught him... The possibility ran through her mind as she dialed the number to the Behavioral Science Division at Quantico. She tapped her finger against her lips as she waited for an answer.

  
  


The phone rang four times and she was about to give up when she heard an abrupt voice on the other end. "Jack Crawford."

  
  


Clarice's voice was soft and she knew her bosses tone. Something had happened. Something bad. "It's Clarice Starling. You paged me Mr. Crawford?"

  
  


When you think about it, it was kinda funny that he was one of her friends and she still called him Mr. Crawford. She didn't know why she still did but she guessed that it had something to do with respect but the words he spoke put a damper on anything else but his words. "Excuse me Mr. Crawford but could you repeat that?"

  
  


He understood her and the words did indeed bare repeating. "Hannibal Lector is back in the States, Starling. We believe he killed Senator Ruth Martin and used her for me so to speak. He left a letter addressed to you Clarice. I want you to get to Atlanta on the next plane. You are gonna be working with the VCTF on this Starling. Baily Malone is one of the best and he'll take care of you."

  
  


The VCTF? The VCTF?! Why was he sending her there. All she wanted to do was get back to Quantico and pull out her papers on the good Dr. "But Mr. Crawford why Atlanta? I thought the VCTF was busy with their hunt for Jack of All Trades. Wouldn't I be more useful there?"

  
  


"The Jack case has been pushed to the back burner. Finding Dr. Lector is the Bureau's number one priority now. You can do better down there with them then you can here. After all we think he's still there. The bastard was in town we think for a cooking show. But your plane leaves in two hours and an agent will met you at the airport. Sorry to wreck your vacation but we need you to be safe."

  
  


And with that he ended the call. She didn't mind the abrupt goodbye. Hell she was used to that by now. But she didn't want to go to Atlanta. She had met some of the members before and found them to be arrogant rude assholes. This was her case damn it. But she had little time and started once again to run back to her hotel. Well so much for relaxing.

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Chapter Four.

  
  


Clarice entered the VCTF building with a sigh. Well it was more luxurious then the offices at Quantico but it seemed less somehow. She shifted her briefcase from one hand to the other as Baily Malone came forward to meet her. His voice was gruff as he put his hand out. "Special Agent Starling I presume?"

  
  


He didn't wait for a reply merely pressed on. "I'm Baily Malone." She gave him a small smile and a slight shake of hand.

  
  


"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Malone. Mr. Crawford speaks very highly of you."

  
  
  
  


"He speaks highly of you Agent Starling. This is John Grant and George and Grace and Dr. Samantha Waters our profiler."

  
  


Brief nods were given before Sam and Clarice sized each other up like two tigers about to fight over a scrap of meat. And who are we kidding that was exactly what it was. This was their respective cases. And the other had no right to infringe on each other's tref.

  
  


Clarice tried first the manners her Mother had taught her so painstakingly taking over automatically. A brief smile flashed over her face. The hand was extended more like a challenge then a welcome. "Dr. Waters I have heard a lot about you. I understand there's some new developments in the Jack of All Trades case."

  
  


Sam bristled against the insult that only she could hear. A phony smile was plastered on her face as she shook Clarice's hand. The pen that was in it, point pressed slightly into her hand. After the brief contact was performed the hand was crept back to her mass of blond hair. She spoke softly to Clarice intend on delivering her as bad insult as the one she had dished out. "Yes will now that Hannibal is in Atlanta I'm sure we'll end up getting him..."

  
  


She didn't say it but the rest of the sentence hovered unspoken between them. It hung on the air like some sort of parasite. 'Just like you couldn't.' Clarice's bold blue eyes hardened at the statement and they regarded each other for a long moment. John edged closer to George, his voice was kept low and the eternally dumb eyes watched the woman.

  
  


"Hey do you think they'll be a cat fight and they'll tear each other's clothes off?" You could almost see the drool coming out of his mouth as he spoke. George gave a quick sigh and rolled his eyes heavenward. He to spoke in soft tones so the new woman wouldn't think him dumb. After he had some respect for her at least.

  
  


"John don't be a dumb ass. That kind of stuff only happens in movies. For god sakes close your mouth." 

  
  


John didn't pay any attention to George's comment and he gave a disgusted sigh. Finally Baily pulled himself from his stupor. He pushed his arm out towards the door to the vacant office that just happened to be right next to Sam's. "Agent Starling if you'll come this way I'll show you to your office. All of your files have been moved down from Quantico including the letter that Dr. Lector had left for you."

  
  


Clarice moved in the direction that Baily pointed to her head held high. If Samantha Waters was going to be a bitch...well two can play at that game. A point glance was dropped to her like a gauntlet. The smug look on her face got to Sam it just had to off. This was going to end with the capture of Hannibal and perhaps the capture of Jack of All Trades as well.

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Chapter Five

  
  


Clarice sat in the worn office chair and cast a quick glance out the large window. She didn't see anyone and quickly picked up the evidence bag. She could spell the fingerprint powder on it and had a small flash back to Frederica Bimal on the slab with those two diamonds of skin missing. A quick mental shake was give as she read the letter,

  
  


_My Dear Clarice,_

  
  


_So the game starts again. I always told Senator Martin that I loved her suit and now I've proved it. You won't find me Clarice. So tell me have the lambs started screaming again? I daresay that they'll start up again with me close to home. You'll have to catch me to stop them again. Do you really think you can. So let the games began. I'm certain I'll be seeing you around soon Clarice. Quid pro quo._

_~Ta_

_ Hannibal Lector._

_P.S. Best wishes to Jack._

  
  
  
  


__Clarice gave a soft sigh as she pressed her hand to her forehead. All she wanted to do was go home and rest on the washing machine. She thought about going to as Mr. Malone about one but changed her mind. This was something she was going to have to cope with. Once more she studied the letter that familiar writing swirling before her eyes.

  
  


So this was how Samantha Waters felt. Scared and alone. But defiantly excited and flattered. So the game had truly begun...__

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Chapter Six

  
  


A cut crystal glass slammed heavily into the wall shattering into hundreds of sharp shards. The slivers glittered blue in the light from the computer monitor.

  
  


With a loud tap on the keyboard a window popped up displaying a headline from the Atlanta Daily World: 'Hannibal is Back.'

  
  


Jack growled as he read the article. Angrily hitting a few more keys another window opened: Special Agent Clarice Starling's FBI file and active case information appeared.

  
  


Dr. Lector was back in the States and giving the FBI some trouble. This Clarice Starling and Samantha would be working together. Jack laughed knowing that his Samantha wouldn't like sharing her case with anyone else.

  
  


How dare they banish him to second place? Behind some pathetic cannibal, no less. The VCTF was going to regret disregarding him. The fracturing sound of glass came again as another cut crystal glass shattered against the wall.

  
  


"You will regret this insult, Samantha.'

  
  


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Chapter Seven

  
  


Samantha impatiently shifted in her chair in the command center as she listened. Bailey updated them on Senator Ruth Martin's mutilation and murder.

  
  


'Now, people, we've already done the preliminary work on the death of Senator Ruth Martin. She died from stab wounds to the chest. Dr. Lector cut off her breasts before she died. Right, Grace?'

  
  


Grace nodded and opened a file. 'Dr. Lector removed the breasts primordium with a non-serrated knife before delivering a single stab wound into the heart. The breasts were not found at the scene of the murder. He then cleaned and dressed the body postmortem.'

  
  


'Do I really want to know what happened to her breasts?' George swallowed audibly.

  
  


Clarice cleared her throat. 'Dr. Lector ate them. He left the dishes he used to cook his meal in the sink. Samples taken from them show that the meal contained human flesh.'

  
  


'Jesus, that's just fucking sick,' John said in disgust.

  
  


'He's had a very illustrious career. Everyone should have reviewed his file,' Clarice said with a trace of impatience.

  
  


Samantha gritted her teeth as her temper flared. 'We all have, Agent Starling. Thank you very much.'

  
  


Bailey sighed. 'We did find quite a bit of trace evidence at the scene. John, what did you find out about the cabin rental?'

  
  


'Lector rented the cabin under the name of Dr. Alexander Hoffman. He came to Atlanta seven days ago to attend the Southern United States Gourmet Food Exposition. We've found--'

  
  


A young junior agent came pushing through the doors to the command center. 'Dr. Waters, a package just arrived for you.'

  
  


Silence fell in the command center everyone's attention on the box. Clarice looked from one apprehensive face to another with a confused look gracing her face. 

  
  


Samantha looked up from her file just barely hiding a satisfied smile. Are you ready for this little twist, Agent Starling? 'Is it safe?' 

  
  


'The package has been X-rayed. Nothing suspicious.'

  
  


Bailey nodded and sighed. 'Thank you, Agent Whitmore.' 

  
  


Samantha held the package in her hands recognizing the distinctive handwriting. A wave of fear tinge with a little pride at showing up Starling swept over her. After pulling on latex gloves from Grace, she slowly unwrapped the package addressed to her at the VCTF. 

  
  


'Exactly what is that?' Clarice asked timidly.

  
  


'This is a 'present' from Jack,' Sam said, her voice loud in the silent room. 

  
  


She finished unwrapping the box and set the paper on the table in front of her. The white gift box sat innocently in front of her. She opened the top of the box and folded back the flaps. Bright red tissue paper covered the gift. She took a deep breath and pushed back the tissue paper.

  
  


A piece of folded white paper appeared to be lying on top of something. Sam pulled out the paper and looked inside the box. Two eyeballs lay pristinely on the blood red paper the blue irises standing out against the red paper. She set the box down on the table and took another deep breath. Everyone watched her reaction in silence.

  
  


'Well?' John asked impatiently. 'What did the bastard send you this time?'

  
  


'Eyes,' Sam said simply. Top that one, Starling.

  
  
  
  


Grace let out a held breath. 'Eyeballs?' She pulled on a pair of latex gloves, reached over, and picked up the box to take a closer look. 

  
  


Sam nodded. 'A pair of eyeballs and a message.'

  
  


Bailey brought out a black light and handed it to Sam. She unfolded the paper and turned on the light. A message appeared under the light. 'Take ye heed and watch: for ye know not when the time is.' (Mark 13:33 relatively) Sam said reading the message.

  
  


John slammed his fist into the table. 'Another damn biblical verse.'

  
  


'George, see if that's an actual quote from the Bible or if he wrote that himself,' Bailey ordered. 'What does it mean, Sam?'

  
  


Sam looked at everyone around the command center table smugly noting that Agent Starling still had a confused and lost expression on her face. 'He's watching us and knows everything that we're doing. And he's letting us know that he's not happy about being ignored. This is a warning. He's jealous that I'm going to be working on the Lector case. That may spurn him on to become more active.'

  
  


'Jesus Christ,' Bailey moaned. 'Now we have two serial killers on the loose.'

  
  


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Chapter Eight

  
  


Jack hunted new prey. He slid silently through the house a dark shadow amid the shadows. The prey sat quietly reading a book in the den the only light coming from an old gooseneck reading lamp.

  
  


The victim kept reading blissfully unaware of the danger right up until Jack slid the piano wire (unbreakable fishing line) around his neck. Jack garroted his victim quickly only with a brief struggle.

  
  


After two hours of pure artistry, Jack stepped back to admire his newest gift to his precious Samantha. He smiled as he listened to the quiet city night and the barely audible dripping of blood. Samantha would be in awe.

  
  


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Chapter Nine

  
  


Samantha stood in front of the First United Methodist Church wishing that it wasn't so early in the morning. Bailey had awoken her with a phone call telling her someone found Jack's latest victim.

  
  


Thankful for her sunglasses in the bright morning sun, she looked up at the body. Jack had really outdone himself this time. Jack had crucified the pastor on the cross that stood in front of the church for all to see. Some poor early-morning jogger had called the police in hysterics.

  
  


Samantha couldn't quite hide the smile on her face as she looked over and saw Agent Starling staring up at the body a nauseous look on her face. 

  
  


'What the hell are you smiling at?' John asked, walking up to her. 

  
  


She tossed her hair back. 'Agent Starling. Little bitch needs to be taken down a peg or two.'

  
  


'All right! Cat fight,' John whispered to himself.

  
  


'John, grow up! Get your mind out of the gutter,' she said, annoyed.

  
  


'Sam,' Bailey called, walking over to them. 'What do you think?'

  
  


Clarice blanched at the sight of that poor man. So this was what Samantha Waters had to go through so many times, the death of so many links to her past. She almost felt a wave of sympathy as she listened to the faint dripping of the blood. She flashed back to when she was standing over poor Catherine Martin as she yelled up from the pit. Poor Catherine Martin the lost little orphan who had been held by a madman only to have her mother killed by the one who was supposed to help them find her in the first place.

  
  


He walked up To Doctor Waters slowly overhearing her last remarks. A sneer fell across his face as he adjust the baseball cap that made him feel very conspicuous, but he knew that was all in his head. He looked like the very normal man who was out for a walk with his dog. He affected a slow stupid sounding accent as he spoke to her.

  
  


"Do you know what happened here Ma'am? Who could have done such a thing?" He didn't give her anytime to answer as he pressed on. " Jeez it must be hard to know that somehow you're the cause of this. I can't even imagine what the victim's family is going through right now. Let me tell you it almost makes me wonder if the FBI wants to capture these monsters. But I guess it must be kinda flattering for this Doctor Waters. Maybe it makes her horny or something..."

  
  


Sam stared at the man aghast. Never had she been spoken to so in her whole life. The retort almost seemed frozen on her tongue as she looked into the man's steely blue gaze. Somewhere inside her a deep primordial fear crept over her steeled spine. She didn't know what to think or say.

  
  


Clarice caught the slow walk of the man as he walked towards Agent Waters. Something bristled at the corner of her mind as she watched him. Several heartbeats seemed like years as she almost seemed to roll back her thoughts. Something in her senses heightened at his presence almost like when the mouse knew the cat was there watching.

  
  


The man turned away from Sam and started to walk into the crowd assembled. He cast a look in her direction and once more that feeling sped over her spine. It was HIM, there was no doubt in her mind that the man who had left Dr. Waters so shocked was the one and only Dr. Hannibal Lector. 

  
  


She pulled her gun quickly and ran in the direction she had seen him go into. She told herself silently that it wasn't because Sam was blond, she just didn't know Dr. Lector as well as Clarice did. The figure before her walked amazingly slow and it was almost a dream as she chased him. Her voice rang out into the chilly morning air. "Dr. Lector stop right there! Let me see your hands nice and easy Sir. The game is over now!"

  
  


At this the members of the VCTF could only stare at her as she went running into the crowd chasing what they preserved to be phantom. Sam pressed a hand to her head and for a brief moment she wondered if Clarice was right. She quickly pushed that thought away. There was no way that she could have been that close to Hannibal Lector and not have known it.

  
  


Baily's voice rang out into the air. "Agent Starling what the hell are you doing?" John cast a look to Grace before making a ring motion with his finger next to his head. He had seen the man after all and there was no way that was the legendary monster. Grace gave a little smile at John's action but she had to wonder. Didn't Sam know when she had been close to Jack or was that all in her head as well? She gave a shrug. Frankly my dear Grace didn't give a damn. She knew about the little turf war between Sam and this girl and she didn't care. Let them fight it out.

  
  


Clarice pushed her way through all the people in the crowd her eyes locking onto the bright red of the baseball hat in the distance. She didn't hear Baily she didn't see John all of her senses were locked into the thought that he was there. He was within reaching distance of her. His voice wafted back over her from so many years ago. 

  
  


She could almost hear him reading the letter he had sent. " I am making no plans to call on you Clarice, I hope you will do the same to me." And here she was chasing him. The hat ducked into a small alley and she entered it slowly. Her gun was cast about the alley slowly as she took in every inch of it. She didn't see him.

  
  


She gave a small sigh and her brow was drawn up. It was him, it had to be him. Somehow she had just known. Her gun was lowered and she wondered if she had really seen him at all. Suddenly out of the darkness his voice reached her ears but in the narrow echoing walls it was impossible to find out were it was coming from.

  
  


"You have been a very naughty girl Clarice. Here you are chasing my phantoms. Perhaps we shall meet face to face one day soon. But no not today. Good bye Clarice."

  
  


Her voice broke into the frightening silence that crept over her after he finished speaking. She stared out for what seemed like forever. "Dr. Lector I'm not here to play any games..."

  
  


She never got to finish speaking for at this point Baily and John tore into the alley. Clarice slid her gun into her holster as she turned to look at Baily. She spoke first intent on cutting off anything he had to say. "Your profiler just let Dr. Lector walk out of here. And you didn't seem keen on sending any backup for me either Agent Malone."

  
  


She started to brush past him the anger pricking at her scalp. She was good and mad. The next death would be on Sam Water's hands. She stalked quickly over to Sam and grabbed her arm pulling her inside the church. Her voice was low and everyone who knew her knew to fear that tone. 

  
  
  
  


"Look Agent Waters I don't know what kind of a game you think you are playing with me but it sure as hell isn't going to work. People's lives are on the line and you can't act like every time you listen to a theory or give me some information it's a god damn personal favor. It doesn't work like that. We have to work together to get two serial killers. There is no time for games Agent Waters. You just let Hannibal Lector walk out of here Scott free."

  
  


Sam quickly pulled her arm away from Clarice's bruising grasp. Well if they were laying cards out on the table she would be happy to oblige. "Look Agent Starling what ever it is you think you are doing here, know this. You aren't part of this time you are an outside who is getting on my nerves. I am going to get Hannibal the Cannibal and you can go your little bitchy ass back to Quantico. So stay the hell out of my way!"

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Chapter Ten

  
  


Hannibal fixed his eyes on him coldly, this man who could almost be his son. A sneer fixed over his lips as he spoke. His voice was soft, dangerous. "So why are you following me, boy?"

  
  


'Nice to meet you too, Dr. Lecter. I thought I might have a word with you.' 

  
  
  
  


"Really a therapy session? Perhaps I ought to send you a bill for my services. Let me guess, fucking Mommy led to sever devant behavior?"

  
  


'I'd watch what you say about my Samantha. A fate worse than death could occur,' Jack said, his voice a cool caress.

  
  
  
  


Once more Hannibal gave that baring of teeth to Jack, and an amused twinkle spun from his eye. "Ah yes, so tell me Jack how long have you been taking threatening quotes from second rate musicals?"

  
  
  
  


'And what made you turn to enjoying the secrets of the flesh, Hannibal? Not enough breast feeding as a child? Or possibly the inverse is true?' 

  
  
  
  


Once more the amusement sparkled in his eyes and he gave an odd little laugh. " Well you are not as stupid as you allow people to believe now are you Jack? Let me guess you were teased as a child which has spawned your godlike wanna be behavior."

  
  
  
  
  
  


'Ah, I thought you didn't want a therapy session, Dr. Lecter. Let's cut this to the quick shall we say? Take that little rookie agent back to Quantico. She just might come to a bad end here in Atlanta,' Jack said, a slight smile forming on his lips.

  
  
  
  


"And I have some wonderfully rustic old time southern recipes I think I might have to try out... And I have discovered the most wonderful place to have some Chianti. Just think a lovely pate' with rose petal garnish." A smug smile was cast to Jack as he tapped his fingers against his pocket slowly.

  
  
  
  


'Just a word of warning to you, Hannibal. I didn't really want to have to send Clarice back to Quantico in a cardboard box. I will if it comes to that.'

  
  
  
  


"Let me tell you Jack. If anything happens to Clarice I swear I will kill your little bleach blond cut slowly and painfully before you and make you eat pieces of the thing you so desire it."

  
  
  
  


Jack laughed. 'Why do I find that so hard to believe that a man of your age could pull that off?

  
  
  
  


He once more gives that odd little smile. " Well Jack at least my world doesn't revolve around some bottle blond idiot who runs into situations just to prove she's a big strong girl. You just need a Mommy surrogate

  
  
  
  


: 'You just have a serious oral fixation problem. You should have learned all about Freud and his theories in school. Or maybe that was too long ago to remember clearly.'

  
  
  
  


Once more he laughed at this boy before him. "So tell me Jack what do you think of Melinda?"

  
  
  
  


'Why? More therapy session?' Jack responded, rapidly becoming angry.

  
  
  
  


"No reason."

  
  
  
  


'I didn't think you'd care to hear my opinion on Melinda.'

  
  
  
  


"Really now why is that? Is it because of all the dirt she has on your precious Samantha?" He sat back watching and enjoying the affect he was having on the so called Master of the Game. "It might be interesting to uncover some of the things Dr. Waters has rolling around her vacant head."

  
  
  
  


Jack turned burning brown eyes onto Dr. Lecter. 'Melinda should have been dealt with long ago. I plan to make amends very soon. As with dealing with your pet FBI agent. They might make an interesting pair to hunt.'

  
  
  
  


" Let me tell you something boy. I know were you are I know who you are. I won't waste time getting the idiots from the VCTF. I'll just take Samantha to you and allow her screams to echo through your dying thoughts. Then I'll enjoy Chloe too. And after it all I will make sure Samantha's name is ruined to the press and to the world. That's not a threat Jack. I rarely waste time making threats."

  
  
  
  


'Nor do I. You'd do well to remember that. You wouldn't want to find your little agent spread across Atlanta.'

  
  
  
  


"I once had hopes for you Jack, but now I see you are nothing but a sad little boy who is trying to play the Phantom for an air head. You are a fool. It is going to be a shame."

  
  
  
  


'No matter. I seem to be doing just fine on my own. Death comes to all of us, Hannibal. And it will come to you sooner than to I.'

  
  
  
  


"We'll see about that boy. Maybe I'll do something that you never got to do... fuck Samantha."

  
  
  
  


'We'll see about that. Revenge is a double-edged sword.'

  
  
  
  


"Is that a dare Jack?"

  
  
  
  


'Quite possibly. Are you up to it, old man?'

  
  
  
  


He smiled coldly to Jack. A smile that would make most sensible people run for cover. " Well as much as I hate to make such an artist a statistic I think that is what I shall have to do."

  
  
  
  


'May the best slayer win,' Jack said, a cold smile forming.

  
  
  
  


"Oh I will"

  
  
  
  


'Brave words for an old man, cannibal.'

  
  
  
  


" Your arrogance takes you to far boy. You are nothing but a little love slave to Sam Waters and yet you can't even touch her. What's the matter Jack? Did the viagra refill run out?"

  
  
  
  


.

'My, we are taking low blows now. Are you so sure about that?'

  
  


'This is tedious. Heed my warning, Hannibal. I may not be so patient and forgiving next time we meet.' 

  
  


"Next time Jack we shall have a very different ending. Your's. Good day and good luck." 

  
  
  
  


'And to you.' 

  
  


He stood up slowly and very deliberately turned his back to Jack, issuing a silent challenge as he took slow steps away from him. 

  
  


After a moment, Jack stood to return to the scene of his latest gift to Samantha. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Eleven

  
  


'Okay, people,' Bailey said as everyone settled into their seats. 'What have we got?'

  
  


A picture of the pastor appeared on the video screen. 'Rev. Robert Hillman. He was the pastor at the First United Methodist Church here in Atlanta for the past ten years. He was an upstanding citizen. Never married. No dirt on him. No ties to Sam at all. It looks like he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Poor sucker,' John said.

  
  


Bailey turned to Grace. 'What about forensics, Grace?'

  
  


George typed on his laptop for a moment. A photograph of the body appeared. Sam shook her head. Clarice averted her eyes.

  
  


Grace looked at everyone and began. 'Looks like this scene took jack at least a couple hours. Jack crucified the good reverend. The actual crucifixion took place postmortem. Cause of death: Jack garroted him with unbreakable fishing line. That kind of fishing line can only be cut with a sharp blade or shears. It was made to be used without leaders and prevent large game fish form biting through it. Once Hillman was dead, Jack nailed him to the cross with heavy-duty carpentry nails. Since nails may not be enough to withstand the weight of a human body, Jack lashed the body to the cross with his usual orange electrical cord. And we can't forget about the obligatory knife wound in the side. Jack's been a busy boy.'

  
  


'The fishing line used was Fire Line. It can be found almost damn near anywhere. The nails, as Grace said, were carpentry nails available at any lumberyard,' John said, annoyed. 'No trace evidence. The soil right around the cross was soft. He must have destroyed any footprints.'

  
  


Bailey sighed. 'Okay. Sam, what does this all mean?'

  
  


Sam took a deep breath. 'Well, the murder took place at the rectory of the First United Methodist Church. Jack displayed the body high up. Look at the photograph. We have to look up to admire his creation. Then the idea of the crucifixion itself. The very idea that he has the power to crucify his victim. Along with his little present yesterday, he knows that I'm working on Dr. Lecter's case. Jack's supremely jealous. He's telling us that he's better than Dr. Lecter and that he, Jack, should be the center of attention. He's--'

  
  


The video screen suddenly went blank and a new picture replaced the old. A letter on the official FBI letterhead stationery addressed to Bailey.

  
  
  
  


Special Agent Malone,

  
  


The director of the Behavioral Sciences Unit demands the return of Agent Clarice Starling to Quantico for reassignment. She is to return to Quantico on the next commercial flight from Atlanta to Arlington. 

  
  


Special Agent Jack O. Trades

  
  


Federal Bureau of Investigation

  
  
  
  


'What the hell...?' John asked.

  
  


Suddenly the screen went black and four blue letters appeared: JACK. After thirty seconds, the screen dissolved back to the picture of the crime scene.

  
  


'Jesus Christ, George!' Bailey exploded. 'I thought we'd gotten him out of the system.'

  
  


Clarice turned to Sam. 'What?! You're pet serial killer has hacked into your computer system?'

  
  


Sam turned to her. 'Shut the fuck up,' she growled through her clenched teeth.

  
  


'George, call security and go over the whole damn mainframe again,' Bailey said sitting down heavily in his chair. 'Alright, people. Agent Starling, what the hell happened this morning?'

  
  


She gave a quick look about the crowded room and all the people staring at the two. Well there was no way Clarice was going to let this happen here. If they wanted to pet there profiler's ego they could do it on their own time not her's. She curtly inclined her head towards his office before stalking into that direction.

  
  


Four pairs of eyes turned questioningly onto Baily to see what he was going to go. Grace was governing an absurd urge to cheer for the Starling girl. George almost choked into his coffee and John, well John sat there with the same vacant expression on his face that he always did. Baily shot Sam a look before he stormed off to his office.

  
  


Clarice stood there and just watched, not even flinching as the door slammed shut behind him. Her hands were clenched and a small tremor went through them. Her voice once more rang with that slow deadly calm. "Don't you ever do that to me again Mr. Malone. I may not be a member of your little team but I have a job to do just the same."

  
  


Baily just stood there watching her shocked by the realization that this girl wasn't the ball of fluff she appeared to be. In fact she reminded him a lot of Sam. But he could see that there was no way of telling either one of them that. He turned and flopped down into his beat-up chair and studied her for a minute.

  
  


"You're right Agent Starling. We don't want you here anymore then you want to be here. But we all have to live with that. And you are right you do have a job to do. You are here to get Hannibal Lector not to fight with members of my team. Don't make me call Jack Crawford and have you sent home."

  
  


Clarice prickled at his choice of words. She was growing more angry then ever at this point. "Now you listen to me Agent Malone. Your profiler was to emotionally involved to know that Dr. Lector was there talking to her this morning. You all were. I think you people need to get off this Jack of All Trades case because you aren't doing your jobs with it. You have made this into a vendetta which has fed your killers delusions."

  
  


Baily stared at her aghast. Never before had he been spoken to in such a matter. His jaw dropped open and he was about to start yelling but she went on. 

  
  


"And if you threaten to put me in time out again I will make sure that Mr. Crawford does hear about all the stuff that has been going on here, including your not starting a manhunt when I identified Dr. Lector. I can guarantee that you people well be shut down and fired. No I suggest that we all play real nice and try and get along."

  
  
  
  


Baily stared at her and knew she was right damn it. He couldn't just send her back. He spoke coldly as by way of dismissing her. "You know Agent Starling threats are a double edged sword. Beware of the bridges you burn down here at the VCTF."

  
  


She started to walk slowly to the door, both of them understanding the other. She opened the door slowly before turning back. Her voice was soft as she spoke her favorite quote. "Well hell is filled with burning bridges. I daresay that's what makes it so damn hot."

  
  


And with that she slammed the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Chapter Twelve_

  
  


Slowly, carefully he entered the small cheap hotel room. He carried her so softly almost like a child in his arms. He placed in on the bed slowly as not to wake her up. He stepped into the small dim bathroom and turned the water on to that perfect shade of warm. He trailed his long digits through the water as he added the soap intent on making the bubbles perfect. 

  
  


Once more his slow gait came over the fading shag carpeting. He slowly undid the straps on the bag that he had brought with him and took out the soft scented candles. There fragrance swirled about his nostrils and he inhaled deeply. An almost sigh rolled from his lips as he turned and once more walked back to the bathroom. Slowly he placed the candles about the room in an almost circle before the trusty lighter was pulled out.

  
  


One flame flicked and then another joined and soon the bathroom was filled with a warm golden light. The smell swirled about him carried on the wings of the steam. Once more he walked out into the man room and pulled something else from the bag. He clenched his hands and the plant matter fell into the water and spread out slowly. 

  
  


The pungent odor of the plants mixed with the scent of the candles in an intoxicating way and it flew about his nose once more nearly driving him to distraction. He shook his head quickly before walking once more into the main room. He leaned over her and checked her breathing. Good, the drug had worked but it wouldn't hurt her. He gave a smile once more as he slowly removed the dove gray suit she was wearing.

  
  


He worked slowly as he prepared her, knowing that all he had was time now. Carefully so he wouldn't bruise her he carried her into the tub and set her slowly into the water. He knelt down next to her and dipped the pitcher into the water and poured it over her in a steady stream. He hummed that soft familiar song as he worked.

  
  


She slowly started to stir and the feeling of these unknown hands on her body. She fought the drug's hold on her as she tried to pull herself into the warm gold glow that hovered just beyond her reach. A low murmur was pulled from her throat and he knew that his time was coming out. A slow smile once again pulled over his face and he quickly turned and locked the door to the bathroom.

  
  


She sat up in the large tub and once again cast a look about her. A small gasp was given as she caught sight of the person who was almost shrouded in the shadows. She brought warm protectively over her bare chest and she spoke slowly, "Who is it who's out there?"

  
  


He didn't answer he, he merely walked slowly up to her and took her hand. She shook as he ran his tongue just above it. She gave a low whimper and gave her hand a good yank. He held her in a grip like iron. Lips twisted into a sadistic smile as his other hand removed a long silver knife. Very slowly almost as if in slow motion he traced just the tip of the blade down her arm and around her wrist.

  
  


Once more she whimpered and fought the vise that held her. Her other palm pounded against his silk cased chest and she slid around the soap-slicked tub. He held her fast as the knife started to break through the milky flesh. Long drips of blood started to slide into the water tinging it pink. The whimpers turned into full grown screams at this point and he gave a soft sigh. The knife was removed and he pressed her head into the water.

  
  
  
  


As he held her head under she came to the strangest thought. The water that was being pulled through her nose and mouth was filled with small pieces of sage, rosemary, thyme and garlic. She tried to scream she couldn't help herself. More water was pulled into her lungs and she was on the verge of blacking out. Her body started to go limp and she felt herself sliding into the darkness. Suddenly she was pulled out and air was once again forced into her lungs.

  
  


The world about her twisted and she took a huge ripping breath. She gave a hoarse cough as her world seemed to contract to the pair of steel blue eyes. She couldn't fight him, somehow it seemed that her limbs had chosen to forgo her as a master. He gave the knife in his hands a twirl before he tapped the blade to his teeth.

  
  


His words, though spoken in a whispered spiraled down to be loud in her ears. Her eyes were almost closed as he spoke. "If you tell me what I want to know Doctor I will make your death a lot less painless then it would be otherwise. Or I will make sure your screams echo through the heavens forever."

  
  


She swallowed softly the taste of the herbs filling her completely. "What do you want to know?"

  
  


He once more gave a smile and the knife was lowered to his side. So she was going to be cooperative, that was better then he had hope. But he still regretted that he wouldn't have to extract the information from her but oh well. "I want you to tell me about Dr. Samantha Waters and the serial killer Jack of All Trades."

  
  


Melinda's lower lip started to tremble and a picture of Sam crying came into her mind's eye. She was so fragile sometimes. She couldn't do it. She couldn't betray a friend like that. Sounding braver then she felt she shook her head. "I won't do it. I won't betray Sam that way. She's my friend and she trusts me."

  
  


Once more Hannibal's lips twisted into a smile. He took a hold of her palm again and slid the blade very slowly under her skin and between the bone and muscle. She screamed and started fighting him again the adrenaline kicking in. Her heels slammed against the hardness of his legs but he didn't even flinch.

  
  


Her screams echoed through the room as the flesh of her palm was removed. Hannibal calmly turned from her to place it in a ready made marinade. Melinda held her hand closely to her chest the shock already starting to set in. The pain radiated over her body in waves. Tears slid unheeded over her cheeks as she watched Hannibal starting to walk back towards her.

  
  


He spoke softly the bloody knife still in his grasp. "Would you like to know something Melinda? Back in the times of the ancient Aztecs the human hand was considered a delicacy. The palm of an enemies child was extremely sought after. I have found some very interesting recipes in my research. Now I should tell you that I have started to consider Chloe Water's as an apt experiment."

  
  


That broke through the gaze of shock. Melinda gave a gasp as his words hit her. He was going to inflict this pain onto a child? A baby? No way. Melinda sat up quickly as Dr. Lector continued on.

  
  


"It will be interesting to see how Samantha reacts to that now won't it? But there is away you can stop it you know. Just tell me what I want to know and I won't harm her at all."

  
  


Melinda closed her eyes and silently asked Sam to forgive her. She would understand she had to. Chloe was the only thing that matter. Slowly she told him everything that he wanted to know.

  
  


Hannibal gave a slow nod as she finished telling her tale. He walked up to her and once again reached for her hand. She started to shake and she prayed for the courage not to cry out or beg for something she knew she would never be granted. Hannibal leaned down over her and quickly placed the dagger through her eye. The blade entered her brain and she died before she even felt it.

  
  


Sometime later he stood up and admired his handiwork. Slowly carefully he added one final touch. Oh Clarice was just going to love this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Thirteen

  
  


Clarice gave a soft sigh as she put the key in the dinging little lock. She looked about her quickly before she pressed her forehead to the doorframe and sighed. Hours of driving didn't make her feel one bit better. All she could hear was Baily's voice reaming her out. She gave another groan as she once again tossed about her options.

  
  


She could stay here and deal with that bitch or she could go and call Crawford and beg to come back to Quantico. Neither option was very pleasant. She made a quick decision to go in, grab Dr. Lector's file and go to the Laundromat she had seen down the street. A smile flew over her face as she pushed the door in.

  
  


A startled gasp fell from her throat as she stared at the scene before her. She started to shake all over she couldn't help it. She fumbled for her cellphone and frantically hit the redial key. 

  
  


George picked up the phone at the command center wondering why it was his own extension that was ringing. He put down his coffee and swallowed before talking, "George Freely."

  
  


Clarice's voice was eerily calm as she spoke. "This is Clarice Starling and someone had better get over here quickly. There's a body in my hotel room." 

  
  


George's jaw dropped as he heard Clarice's statement. He went to question her further but his only response was the click as she hung up. This was serious something in him knew it. He ran to Baily's office. "Baily we have a problem."

  
  


Clarice studied the body now that she had recovered from her first state of shock. She reached into her pocket for her latex gloves as she walked over to grisly scene. There before her hanging on the wall above the bed was an older woman late fifties or early sixties she decided. Her mouth was open and her tongue had been removed. 

  
  


She took in every detail before her noting that the meat at the palm on both hands was removed. Clarice gave a sigh remembering the facts she had uncovered when she first started with Dr. Lector. There was little doubt in her mind that this was his way of one upping Jack. So it seemed the killers that they hunted had gotten in on the little turf war as well. A small ironic smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

  
  


The smile was washed away as the sirens fell upon her ears. Once more she circled the room and there she saw it. The message, with it's blood trailing was a perfect match for his. The words were simple and she recalled them from the old childhood poem.

  
  


See no evil

Hear no evil

Speak no evil

  
  


For we hear all

  
  


It was then she noticed that the eyeballs had been removed as well as the ears. She gave a small sigh as she wondered who this woman could possibly be. It was at that moment that the VCTF calvary burst threw the doors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Chapter Fourteen

  
  
  
  


Samantha stood in the doorway of Agent Starling's hotel room staring in utter shock. One of her worst nightmares had come true. Melinda's naked body hung on the wall above the generic bed her arms outstretched suspended from the ceiling and her right let over the left. From her vantage point Sam could not see how the body was held to the wall. She didn't want to know. It was horrible enough to see such a sight.

  
  
  
  


She leaned against the wall fighting a wave of dizziness and nausea. From far away she could hear people speaking.

  
  
  
  


Grace finished examining the body. 'The flesh on the palms of the hands is missing. So are the tongue, eyes, and ears.'

  
  
  
  


Bailey glanced at Sam. She looked very pale. 'Agent Starling, why did Dr. Lecter remove those body parts?'

  
  
  
  


Clarice looked at Sam as well before answering. 'He removed the flesh of the hands for later eating. There were some ancient cultures that believed that the flesh of the palms had mystical significance. He removed the tongue perhaps because she talked. Either to Sam or to Hannibal himself. The ears because she listened to Sam. The eyes because he is watching us. The poem he left behind points to that idea as well.'

  
  
  
  


Sam couldn't take it anymore. One of her best friends in the world was dead. And that little bitch was talking about Melinda as if she were nothing but a piece of meat. Suddenly, she let out a keening wail and burst into heaving sobs the tears sheeting down her pale cheeks. 'No!' she sobbed. 'No!' She slid down the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees and cried.

Chapter Fifteen

  
  
  
  


Clarice sat down leaning against the washing machine at the empty Laundromat. She needed to relax after having seen Agent Waters' friend hanging from the wall of her hotel room. She didn't want to seem to be innocent and young, but Hannibal's latest kill had bothered her. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the warm machine her tense muscles slowly loosening.

  
  
  
  


'Are you okay?' a soft southern voice asked. 'I don't normally find a young woman sitting on the floor of a Laundromat.

  
  
  
  


Clarice opened her eyes to see a man looking down at her. He appeared to be in his early thirties his wire-rimmed glasses, brown eyes, and tousled blond hair making him appear younger.

  
  
  
  


She nodded slowly. 'I'm just waiting here for my laundry. And trying to relax. I've had a rough couple of days.'

  
  
  
  


'I can understand that. What happened? That is if you don't mind me asking.'

  
  
  
  


After an appraising look, she smiled. 'Work. I've just had to deal with uncooperative people lately.'

  
  
  
  


'Sounds familiar. I seem to have that same problem. Quite a bit actually. Mind if I join you? Keep you company?'

  
  
  
  


She shook her head feeling slightly drowsy. 'Go ahead. I may not be the best company right now.'

  
  
  
  


Jack sat down beside her and leaned back for a moment enjoying the silence before the battle. He pulled a syringe out of his pocket. He turned to her and smiled. 'That's all right, Clarice. I'm not the best company either.'

  
  
  
  


Before she could react to his words, he grabbed her arm and slid the needle into a vein. She looked at him the realization dawning slowly. 'Jack?'

  
  
  
  


'Yes.'

  
  
  
  


Clarice relaxed against him as she lost consciousness. He pulled out a long black silk scarf printed with red roses and gagged her. He picked her up and carried her out to his car dumping her into the trunk and binding her wrists and ankles with orange electrical cord.

  
  
  
  


Jack had no intentions of taking good care of Clarice. If she came to any harm while in his possession, she was a big girl. She certainly was no where near the caliber his Samantha was. Handcuffing the unconscious Clarice to the wooden chair, he turned away from her with a final glance at her. Snapping off the light, he locked the basement door behind him.

  
  
  
  


Minutes later, the door to a hotel room swung open easily. Jack walked in to survey Hannibal's suite taking in the details of his adversary. After thoroughly searching the suite and dropping Clarice's dress jacket on the bed, he carefully left a red rose and a parting message for Hannibal.

  
  
  
  


Roses are red.

  
  


The light is blue.

  
  


Clarice is gone.

  
  


What about you?

  
  


Quid Pro Quo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Sixteen

Sam sat at her desk, her head cradled in her hands. Still the tears made paths down her cheeks. Disbelief once more sent shivers through her chilled body. She had always known that Melinda would be a victim due to her association with Sam but never like this. Never at the hands of this... cannibal.

  
  


The shaking increased as she caught sight of the paragraph before her. The grotesque pictures kept drawing her eye as the ink was marred by tears. The questions pulled at sea of her mind. Was he savoring the tender flesh even now? Did it taste of the herbs that were found in the bath?

  
  


She could see Melinda's hands even now, feel there softness, smell the sweetness of the violet hand cream she had always worn. An involuntary cry was made as the manicured nails pulled and tore at the article as if trying to remove the images from her mind. She wanted to scream her pain world. It wasn't fair to that her friend was killed because of this little hick bitch.

  
  


Sam jumped out of her seat, tipping the chair over in her haste. That little bitch was going to be very sorry. Sam slammed the door open only to find the office empty of everything but the lingering scent of Air de Temps. She pushed all the papers off the desk before slamming the door on her way out of the room.

  
  


Her fury growing, Sam stalked over to Bailey's office and through the door open. He cast his eyes upwards and a bushy eyebrow was pulled heavenward into an arch. He carefully put the unlit cigar into the tray and gave a muted, "I'll have to call you back," before he stood up and faced Sam.

  
  


Her emotions were still sweeping over her in waves and her voice seemed to echo from all around her, mingling with Melinda's screams in her mind, as she shouted. " Where the hell is she Bailey? Were the hell did she go?"

  
  


Inwardly he gave a groan. Carefully he extended one hand behind her pushing the door closed. Sam just stood there as he walked over to his desk and poured her a large glass of scotch. Slowly he placed it before her never allowing his eyes to leave her ashen face. She picked it up automatically, the liquor sloshing over the rim with the trembling of her hand.

  
  


She sat down slowly her eyes liquid with tears. Bailey sat opposite her and took a sip of his drink as if encouraging her to do the same. Those red-rimmed eyes just stared at him and he gave a heavy sigh before he starting speaking, "I sent Clarice out to relax. She needed to after seeing that."

  
  


Sam's face before so vacant now took on a totally unlike sneer. "So now it's Clarice is it? What the fuck Bailey? Your taking her side over me after everything I have been through because of her?"

  
  


"Sam no one is taking sides here. She didn't do anything, that's not what this is about. We are all trying to catch those two monsters."

  
  


She gave an unlady-like snort. "Bailey that was one of my best friends, one of the people I could always count on. And now she's dead because Hannibal had to prove a point to us because Jack did."

  
  


"Sam, she found Melinda hanging over her bed. That's enough of a shock to anyone but then when you add she's new to the whole stalker thing..."

  
  


Sam bolted up her body tensing. "And I'm such a goddamn pro at it? Just because I have dealt with Jack and his array of shit for so long?"

  
  
  
  


Instantly he was defensive. "Sam, that's not what I said."

  
  


"No? Well Bail that's what you just fucking said. How can you do this to me? You're supposed to be my best friend!"

  
  


"Sam, your thinking is getting all jumbled up. You need to go home and hug Chloe. Take some time to grieve."

  
  


"Grieve? Grieve! Bailey I want to get this bastard. And then after I get her pet monster I am gonna hang that little bitch Starling out to dry."

  
  


"Sam, she didn't cause this. None of this is Clarice's fault. Give her a chance for god sake."

  
  


Her chin came out firmly. "No way Bailey."

  
  


"Sam, I want you to go home and try to relax with your daughter. Don't make me make this an order." He warned in a soft tone of voice.

  
  


She stood up quickly, her hands clenched tightly at her sides. She tore open the dorr and it hit the wall with a resounding bang. Sam turned back and said coldly, "Bailey I'm not going anywhere. I am gonna catch this fucker with or without your help. So stay the hell out of my way!" And with that she slammed the door shut behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Sixteen

  
  


Hannibal walked slowly up to the desk at the Hyatt Regency and gave the girl there a brief smile. His nostrils flared as he caught the putrid stench of burnt old garlic and rancid sourkraught. He grimaced slightly before he calmly said, "Do you have any messages for Dr. Anthony Dennis?"

  
  


The girl turned dim-lit eyes on him before granting him a saccharine-sweet smile. Her accented voice had that same false honeyed tone. "Let me check Doctor."

  
  


He gave a slight nod and tapped his long fingers upon the polished oak while he waited for the girl to return. With a slow swishing walk she returned, two pieces of snow white paper caught between her small fat fingers. 

  
  


Carefully, as if they were gold she handed them to him as she once again spoke in that fake cartoon voice. "And your package has been taken up to your suite."

  
  


Hannibal stiffened slightly but only on the inside. There was no way, the only person who know was Jack. Calmly he hid his feelings with a smile, but his eyes flashed over the girl before him. His voice was smooth like silk that was hiding a steel blade below it, " So tell me... Jane, is it? Who was my package from?"

  
  


She shivered slightly and nervous eyes were shifted about the crowded lobby. Once more she gave him that smile. " I don't know that sir, but I can find the order sheet if you would like."

  
  


"I would like that very much."

  
  


Still he waited those long fingers tapping out the familiar tempo of Goldberg Variations. Slowly the lobby rolled away from him and his thoughts focused on one thing : Samantha Waters. If Jack had taken Clarice there would be hell to pay and that little blond would be the first to play it.

  
  


The girl approached him slowly, very aware of those dangerous hands that were now tightly clenched about the pen before him. It shook with the tension he placed on that thin piece of brass. Her voice had lost that fake tone and shook almost with fear as she broke in on his thoughts. " Doctor, the package was delivered by a Trades-Starling messenger. Shall I try and find you a number for them?"

  
  


Her eyes were pulled in a downward cast as the pressure proved to be too much for that poor little pen. Ink rolled slowly over the desktop and when pulled his fingers up, it was as if they had been splattered with black blood. A small primordial whimper escaped from her lips as if she was scared more then words could say.

  
  


When he spoke it was in the same mild manner as before as if the situation hadn't affected him at all. "No thank you that won't be needed I'll find them myself."

  
  


She gave an unsteady nod as his slow gait pulled him away from her and towards the elevator doors. An audible collective sigh was given from the hotel staff as the doors shut behind him. It was almost as if the world can breath again.

  
  


Cautiously he opened the door to his suite, fingers tensed on that sharp, curved, taloned blade that seemed to act as his removed sixth finger. Those piercing eyes narrowed as his gaze was dropped down onto the down-folded bed sheets. 

  
  


There resting carefully on his pillow was the single long red rose and the note. On the opposite pillow was the dress jacket that Clarice had been wearing earlier. In a slow swooping caress he picked it up and quivered as the familiar scent of Air de Temps floating flittingly about him. The harpy knife ripped through the rose petals and the note. Well if Jack wanted a battle of wits, Hannibal would provide one. Slowly he picked up the phone on the night stand and used the harpy to dial.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

  
  


Chapter Eighteen

  
  
  
  


Clarice came to slowly her mouth dry and her head throbbing. She opened her eyes to pure blackness. She shivered and remembered the Laundromat. And she remembered Jack. She groaned at her own stupidity for being so careless. She couldn't believe she had fallen for his act.

  
  
  
  


Out of the darkness a metallic sound came. The door swung open allowing a minimal amount of light into the room. The door closed with a solid thud.

  
  
  
  


Suddenly a flashlight snapped on blinding Clarice. She squeezed her eyes closed against the painful, glaring light focused on her.

  
  
  
  


'I see you're awake, Agent Starling,' a calm, caressing voice said.

  
  
  
  


'What do you want?' she said, her voice slurring slightly.

  
  
  
  


'I'm just hedging my bets. I think we need to have a little talk, Agent Starling.'

  
  
  
  


She shook her head to clear it. 'Wh-what about?'

  
  
  
  


The light and the voice behind it circled around her. 'Dr. Lecter. You both ought to leave Atlanta before you wear out your welcome. I won't tolerate him roaming my territory. Nor shall I tolerate you intruding upon my Samantha.'

  
  
  
  


Irritation burned away the residual drowsiness in Clarice. 'And what, exactly, do you expect me to do about it?'

  
  
  
  


'Anything,' he growled in her ear.

  
  
  
  


She flinched away from him in alarm a wave of fear washing over her. 

  
  
  
  


He came to a stop in front of her. 'I really cannot see what about you captivates Lecter so much. Just a young, stupid, inexperienced rookie.'

  
  
  
  


He set the flashlight down on the floor and approached her. She shivered as his leather-clad hands skimmed lightly over her arms. She felt the bite of a needle before she could even panic.

  
  
  
  


'Don't worry. I'll take good care of you,' he whispered as the drug overwhelmed her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Nineteen

  
  


She picked up the phone, her almost growled "Hello" seeming to tear through his ears. A small sneer of contempt was apparent on the other side of the phone and he felt like denouncing her unprofessional manner. Instead he merely gave a soft sigh his voice taking on the tone of condensation he normally saved for her betters. 

  
  


"Is this Agent Waters?"

  
  


She gave herself a mental shake as she tried in vain to place that voice, certain she had heard it before. Her perfect incisors trapped her lush bottom lip, almost holding it hostage. She squared her shoulders but it still wasn't enough to conceal the tremor that shook through her voice. "This is Samantha Waters."

  
  


Like a predator stalking his prey, Hannibal heard that slow catch of breath. His face turned into an almost grotesque smile. His voice once more pulled that tone of sadistic politeness.

  
  


" Now Dr. Waters are we on a secure line? You see I have information of a rather personal nature on Hannibal Lector and I really don't want to be overheard."

  
  


A slow awareness pulled through her body causing her back to straighten. In that moment all of the tension of the day seemed to vanish and all she could think of was how she was going to get him. Once more her breath caught and she picked up the blue ink pen and pad on her desk. The phone was caught between her shoulder and ear as she spoke, her voice once more holding a trace of the Agent she was rumored to be.

  
  


"Just one second sir, and I'll switch us." She stood up and quickly adjusted the shades in her office before giving him her full attentions. "I'm ready when you are."

  
  


He closed his eyes carefully, wondering if this was going to be almost to easy. Once more his voice was brought to her ears. "Well, you see Agent Waters I think I know where Lector is but I am not quite certain. You see he likes his fun and I am rather afraid for my safety."

  
  


"Let me assure you sir that I will do all I can to assure your safety from this monster. Now if you could only give me some sort of address were you think he is..."

  
  


He cut her off abruptly, "I won't tell you over the phone Doctor. Meet me at the church where they found that poor man's body the other night. Come alone and unarmed. If you come with someone else or with a weapon you will never hear from me again and you will never, ever catch him. Shall we say ten o'clock?"

  
  


Sam's mouth fell open as she looked at the phone receiver. She was aghast at his demands. Carefully she checked her watch, it read 9:27. She had to make her decision soon. Long slender fingers were pressed to her lips as she considered her options. Slowly the clock kept it's crawl to the appointed hour. She reached the only decision she could and grabbed her coat, going to meet the madman in the dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Twenty

  
  


He stood in the shadows at the old church, long slender fingers gliding carefully over satin ivories. The music was classical and really had to be heard on the great pipe organ. He lost himself in the music, those crimson eyes were closed as he played. No sheet music was needed as her found himself lost in the melancholy of his boyhood notes.

  
  


His fingers slowed there dance before coming to rest upon the keys. There in the recesses of his mind he allowed himself a slow glimmer of wondering what Clarice was doing. Fingers were involuntarily closed into fists that collided with in instruments with an ungodly screech of notes. An almost growl was given before he quickly pulled himself back into the current state of affairs. Clarice needed this to go off without a hitch. He stood behind the darkened altar his hands pressed carefully to his chest.

  
  


The sound of the car was brought suddenly to his ears and he gave a small smile. He brought his hand to his face, pinpoints reflecting on the watch's face. Yes, she was certainly punctual for a blond. The remote was held carefully and the automatic locks were opened. Samantha Waters was walking into his web just as he wanted her to and there wasn't a damn thing that Jack could do to stop him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Twenty-One

  
  


She entered the church slowly, her free hand fumbling in the hallow vacancy of her holster. A brave front was wrapped about her, as the heavy door swung back into it's frame with a resounding bang. Once more pearly white teeth grasped that fleshy bottom lip in a effort to prevent the low gasp that valiantly forced itself out. She blinked methodically, willing her eyes to adjust quicker to the cold dim light of the crimson exit sign. It's very message in the back of the sanctuary pulled her towards it like a homing beacon.

  
  


Her hand was held carefully before her, tender fingertips sliding over the smooth wood. Carefully, in her mind, she counted the footfalls that filled the gap between her and the safety of the outdoors. Her breathing seemed heavy and harsh to her own ears, every sound was magnified in the cold, sterile silence about her.

  
  


Still she visualized the half way point commanding her feet to speed up. Her lips formed the words even if no sound came out. One step, then two, then three, soon it would all be over, soon she could breath. That's the thought she clung to as her lungs screamed for the breath she wasn't even aware she was holding. The fight within herself was lost and that long gasping breath was taken, shattering the perfect calm about her.

  
  


Sam pulled her hands quickly to her mouth, the palm slicked with sweat. Every instinct in her body told her to run, to flee. Her mind was made up and her legs were brought forward to sprint as that calm, polite voice rang through the darkness. 

  
  


"Good evening Dr. Waters. I do hope you will allow me to stay hidden in the darkness, at least until our discussion has reached some level of maturity. So now then, shall we return to the front where our conversation can be held without shouting?"

A barely discernable nod was given as she slowly turned to face the voice before her. It was almost as if her body had frozen like the mouse's as it hears a snake. Still she couldn't help but make those slow steps to the front. Blue eyes searched the darkness looking for the man who could hold this much power, this much fear over her.

  
  


Her voice shook when she finally found it and oddly enough it to held that same note of detached, cold, formality. "You said that you had information that would lead me to Hannibal Lector?"

  
  


He moved closer to her, his steps silent like that of a cat. Deja vou. ran over him and he brushed it away quickly not allowing Clarice to distract him from his currant game. "And tell me Doctor why do you seek this man that most call a monster and the deadliest man alive?"

  
  


"He killed my best friend."

  
  


"Is that the real reason Agent Waters? Or is there perhaps something else, something a little more deep inside your soul."

  
  


Images flashed through her head, beating against the rage that she had found there. In her mind's eye she saw Clarice and Bailey, Clarice and the team, Clarice and the glory. It all rang down to Clarice, beating Clarice. It wasn't that she didn't love Melinda it was that she hated Clarice.

  
  


Sam bristled outwardly against his attack her voice taking on a more colder, more deadlier anger. "I didn't come here to play games with you mister. I want to know where Hannibal Lector is hiding."

  
  


Hannibal's voice was soft as he was just outside of touching range now. "Well, Agent Waters, I think there is something more then that. It was written there in your face as clear as day. So tell me just what secrets are you holding up there in your little blond head?"

  
  


Sam was really angry now. "Look asshole, tell me what you know I am sick of playing this head games!"

  
  


"Why aren't they as good as the ones you play with Jack? So tell me _Sam_ did you rejoice when he killed your husband, your lover? Did it make you wet and send you home to roll about your lonely bed with your vibrator crying out for your monster in the darkness? Your Jack, your Jack..."

  
  


She cut him off "Fuck you!" Her back was turned to him and her eyes were once more caught by the crimson light. She leaped into action, one foot flying over the other towards the door and towards her gun.

  
  


His words caught her in her tracks and she stood there almost shell shocked. "What I don't think you understand Agent Waters to whom you are talking to. Don't you want to know who I am? What I can do? What I will do? It's what drives you Samantha. That wanting to know is what pulls you away from you deary little dreams of a happy life. Yes what will you do when there are no monsters in the dark? When the only monsters left are the ones you so carefully hide, locked up in your head. Somewhere deep down do you every wonder if a part of you somehow is Jack?"

  
  
  
  


Tears came unbidden down her cheeks as she turned to face him, wanting her gun. She couldn't stay here and listen to this anymore. Fuck Clarice fuck Hannibal it was time to get the hell out of here. 

  
  


He stood there and the only thing that could hold her attention was the crimson exit sign that was reflected in his eyes. The white clothe was pressed to her nose and the sickly familiar scent wafted into her nostrils. The darkness started to overtake her and she was falling. His voice spoke calmly to her, lulling her to sleep.

  
  


"It's nothing personal Agent Waters. You never would have been involved with this if your idiot pet had chosen to stay to his side. You see he has taken something which belongs to me and I have in turn done the same. A quid pro quo as it were. You are perfectly safe as long as she is. But if he unwisely chooses to harm her I will have little blond stew for dinner. Nighty-night."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Twenty-Two

  
  


Bailey sat at his desk, angrily checking his watch. It wasn't like Sam to be this late. And come to think of it where was Starling's ass. Once more he consulted the clock on the wall as if to assure himself that his watch hadn't stopped since the last time he checked it two minutes ago. A low growl was given and Bailey burst through the doors of his office and he plopped down in his chair at the table.

  
  


His voice was a growl as he spoke. "We're starting without them. They can just catch up later."

  
  


George and Grace exchanged a look, they to knew that this wasn't like Sam at all. John of course sat there and chewed on his pen cap just like he always does. Bailey shot George a look that was all business. He swallowed slowly but luckily when he opened his mouth to take the phone ring. A grateful look was cast heavenward as he picked it up, " Command Center." He listened for a moment his face slowly turning white. Once more he cleared his throat and then put the phone down. "You guys had better here this."

  
  


Hannibal's voice filled the room around them as George placed him on speaker phone. He kept his normal sadistically polite tone as he spoke to them. "Well hello esteemed members of the VCTF. This is your old pal Hannibal Lector and I am currently holding Samantha Waters hostage in response to his outrageous action of taking Clarice. I am not so much as telling you but as putting the word out to Jack. Your move serial boy. See ya around."

  
  


And with that t

he phone clicked off. The agents stared at each other is disbelief and finally Bailey's voice broke through. "Son of a bitch!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Twenty-Three

  
  


  
  


Hannibal answered the phone slowly his voice dripping with sadistic malice. Carefully he fingered the costume he had brought for Sam his voice light. "Well, good evening, Jack. I trust my Clarice is well."

'As I trust Samantha is. For the time being.'

"Yes we were just having a little chat about you, boy. She has some rather interesting opinions of you rolling around in her subconscious. Thinks she didn't even know herself."

Jack smiled at the thought, the rose in his grasp crumbling under the force. 'I'm sure she does. I trust that you didn't find out the hard way.' 

"Nothing that would hurt her, Jack, but I do have some marvelous drugs here at my disposal. Much more useful then your bland, blunt little tools."

'Just remember that those blunt little tools are just as dangerous. If not more so. Aren't you worried about poor, little Clarice?' 

"Well, Jack, I think that you know what and who I am. However. I spent a long time training this particular pet and am not keen on doing this for another. Not that I couldn't make the most of nice little Sam here.…… Even if she is somewhat more dumb than I like."

'I'm not particularly impressed with the intelligence, or lack of, that Clarice has displayed. Such an inferior product to begin with.'

"Says you, but then again your's white trash aspect is so much more well hidden."

'I really thought you'd like someone older, experienced, sophisticate. She certainly doesn't seem to be your type.'

"Well she can be taught not like your little piece of fluff here. Tell me Jack if I cut her would she bleed syrup?"

'My Samantha would bleed just as Clarice would bleed. Gouts of red, scalding blood. Don't you remember that from your anatomy classes?'

" Hah hah Jack let's keep a grip on yourself shall we? So tell me how many pieces of furniture did you break when you found out I took your little piece of fluff?"

'More importantly, who did you eat when you found your dear Clarice gone?'

"Well I am saving my appetite for your little fluff. How does Sam ala mode sound Jack? Care for a slice of cunt pie?"

'As kind as the offer is, I do not eat my own species. Thank you. However, I do find the hunting of Homo sapiens to be rather fun.'

"Why yes I bet you do. So tell me Jack did Daddy take you hunting? Did you want to hunt him. That's why you love Samantha isn't it. The only time your Daddy told you he loved him was when you killed. And now you try to make little trashy whorey Samantha Waters love you the same sad way."

'Another of your therapy sessions, Dr. Lecter? Perhaps I shall impart a little information to you. The first hunt was my father. Was the first meal your mother? A sibling?'

His voice hardens at the mention of his sister and the hand holding the harpy tightens. The dull end of the blade glides over Sam's face as he says very softly, "Well Jack I have eaten more people then anyone can imagine and my first was a well a secret."

'Quid pro quo, Hannibal. Your secret for my secret.'

"A so you steal my lines now do you Jack? Can't think of your own name, can't think of your own lines, well that is just a sad comment on the state of affairs in this Country. The first person I ate was a Nazi solider."

'Not some tender young child, a sibling. Too bad. I would have thought your first meal would have been the tender flesh of a sibling. Seems only right.'

Hannibal closed his eyes and sighed softly, his mind flashing back to that place so long ago in the snow. The swing of the ax was torn to his ear. The phone was gripped closer as he willed his thoughts to Clarice. He saw her there staring at him with those wide fawn eyes and once more found his composure. He grinned slowly as he opened his eyes knowing that the time seemed so much longer in his own mind then in reality, :

"You know Jack, you may have a child molester fixation but I however don't. I know why you chose someone with a young daughter. Tell me who do you want to fuck more Sam or Chloe?"

"Please, Hannibal, such a low blow. I do have certain standards. Unlike you for instance.'

"Really Jack please feel free to elaborate"

  
  


'I'm sure that you aren't that particular when it comes to finding your next gourmet meal.'

"Really Jack are you making me an offer on some of your parts? Well the smoking would have damaged the choice cuts so I'm afraid I must refuse. And as for the little piece before me I'm afraid I really don't enjoy the whorey trash special but I will make do if I have to."

'So, you're not below eating someone you love. How quaint.'

"No I'm offering to eat someone you love."

'Not below eating Clarice?'

"Clarice would never be eaten She's too good for that."

'Too good? She's nothing put a naive, inexperienced, unimpressive woman. She has not made much of an impact upon the world. No one would miss her.'

"Are you so certain of that Jack. Because if we are talking about removing people from the world I have the one you value most right here."

'As do I.'

"Well then shall we come down to terms?"

'Certainly.'

"Well Jack where shall we have our final act?"

'Most appropriately at the First United Methodist Church. You know where that is. You shall have to pray that I receive my Samantha in the condition that you took her in. If not, there will be hell to pay.'

"The same goes for my Clarice Jack. Never forget what I have done to your betters. Never forget who I am."

'And what would happen if one should forget, old man?'

"Do I really need to remind you with promises and impolite threats?"

'You seem to be so taken with promises and impolite threats.'

  
  
  
  


"Well the gimmicks don't make a man either Jack. A pity you haven't learned that yet."  


  
  


'I dare to disagree with you on that point. Your gimmick doesn't seem much better.'  


  
  


"No Jack you see I am original. All of the others try to be something they can never be, me. I knew that as I watched for all those years, hidden in my cell. I watched you Jack and knew what you would become long before you yourself did. My gimmick as you say is the truth. The rest is incidental."  


  
  


'Really, Dr. Lecter, as a psychiatrist you should know about the varying kinds and degrees of truth.'  


  
  


"Hardly Jack. Oh look Sam has woken up she really seems rather worried about her state of undress. I think I should go and attend to her Jack."  


  
  


'Perhaps you ought to. For Clarice's sake.'  


  
  


"What time shall we say then Jack. I got a hot little number for Sam I'm sure you'll like and don't worry there's plenty of viagra around so you can get it up."  


  
  


'The witching hour. I won't be needing any drugs, thank you. Keep them for yourself. We wouldn't want Clarice to be unfulfilled.'  


  
  


"Midnight is then and Jack trust me Clarice never is unfulfilled unlike Sam who you won't even touch but I digress. See ya then Jack." And with that he hung up the phone  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Twenty-Four

  
  


Bailey sat at his desk the towel wrapped around his neck. He couldn't believe that they had let the ball drop like this. The two monsters the FBI wanted the most were playing some sort of chess games and using him as a pawn. He didn't like it, not one bit. The team flustered about as reports came in, crazies for the most part. There wasn't a single lead as to were the monsters had hidden each other's queens.

  
  


He studied the chess pieces before him, knowing they were taken from the place were they had found the Senator. The pieces were set up as they had found him and black had taken white's queen. It seemed there was irony after all as white was about to take the black queen. His hand found Clarice's notes and he studied them slowly. This was his fault he knew that. If he hadn't called for her to come down here none of this would happen. His hands closed into a fist as George came running in.

  
  


His voice was quick and sounded almost excited. "We've got a lead that sounds promising. A cabin near the one were we found the Senator has been broken into by a man and a woman. The descriptions match."

  
  


Bailey's voice was impatient, "So what the hell are you waiting for? Send the troops out and bring them in here!"

  
  


And sirens started in the distance. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Twenty-Five

The dim candlelight flickered eerily catching on the white petals of the lilies. Jack leaned out over the balcony railing reveling in satisfaction. Clarice hung on a cross suspended over the church's white marble altar. Unseen orange electrical cord hidden by the white, gauzy dress she wore lashed her to the cross. Her head was bowed in supplication from the drugs Jack had given her. Hundreds of candles and white lilies surrounded the altar which stood bare except for the cut crystal bowl of Cheetos sitting on it.

  
  


The soft sound of a door opening came to his ears. After a moment, the candlelight reflected off white clothing. His breath caught as he watched Dr. Lecter escort Samantha into the church. Samantha wore a black Armani gown as a second skin. She walked in slowly, carefully balanced on stiletto heels. Even though railing against classics, Dr. Lecter wore a black tuxedo, white wing-collar shirt, and black bow tie with a black fedora and billowing trench coat. 

  
  


Jack tensed as he watched them come farther into the church. A wave of anger washed over him as he realized that Lecter had drugged Samantha. Hannibal's voice was quite as he adjusted his fingers below her elbow, "Mind the step Dr." Crimson eyes flashed to Clarice and his body tighted but he hid it well. He seated Sam carefully in the first pew and bowed slightly to were he thought Jack would be, the choir loft. 

Yes that sight seemed stuck in his head, the sketch from that life time ago. The robes moved slightly with her breathing and that soft hair fell over her face in soft Grecian waves. He had to put those thoughts away he knew and concrete on the matter at hand. His voice rang out in a slow mocking tone,"Well Jack aren't you going to come down and great your guests? We have gone through quite a bit of trouble you know." 

  
  


A light snapped on in the balcony and a figure leaning on the railing was backlit. 'I would have thought you would have liked to see the view from a different angle.' 

  
  


"Oh yes forgive me, your deep seated fear of Samantha Waters. So you want me to come then and reenforce your god complex is that right Jack?"

Jack laughed, the sound ringing through the church. 'If that's what you want to believe, old man. Perhaps you would just like one last look at your naive FBI agent.' 

"Or maybe you would like to have your final vision be that of something that you will never touch or taste." And at the word taste his long red tongue was pulled from his deep mouth and hovered just above Samantha's bared shoulder. Tasting the air and the hand creme she used. 

  
  


'You are so quick to jump to conclusions. I would have thought a man of your intelligence would not assume such things. Besides, this will not be my final vision, cannibal. I promise you that.' 

  
  


"Promises, promises Jack," and with that a finger was wagged in his direction. 

  
  


'Did you want more promises? Such as, I promise that your little FBI agent will be leaving Atlanta preferably in a cardboard box? That if I had my way, you would as well. That once I finish with you, that the VCTF will tumble down. Are those promises good enough for you?' Jack growled, wrapping his leather-clad hands around the balcony railing. 

  
  


Hannibal merely smiled at Jack as he turned and acceded up the stairs. His steps were slow and he was not about to rush to kill this poor sad little boy he had plenty of time now anyway. He gave a small smirk as he saw what his so called nemesis was wearing. The leather of the outfit seemed fake and dated to Hannibal's well trained eye and he wondered if perhaps Jack did have some sort of bondage fetish after all. *Well,* he thought with an almost shrug. *What ever makes him feel young.*

  
  


He caught a glance of Clarice her arms stretched out to heaven, her gaze turned down to hell. He kept his rage in check, he had to. He knew from the slow rise and fall of her chest that she was alive but she too was drugged. An almost indulgent smile was caught on his face as he and this boy were almost alike. 

  
  


Sam's eyes opened briefly and she cast a quick look about her, her eyes hazy. She blinked quickly willing the room to stop spinning so. Her eyes were suddenly caught to the candles on the altar and the image of Clarice about it. Wearily she sunk her head into her hands and cried out softly. "I never should have done that acid in college." 

  
  


Jack turned to face the winding stairs that ascended to the balcony. Jack waited until Hannibal reached the top. 'Difficult, old man? Those stairs can be a killer.' 

  
  


Hannibal offered Jack a smile that was really more of a baring of teeth then a gesture of welcome. He swept past him quickly and walked over to the roses. He bent down slightly, giving Jack his back. A risky thing to do for certain but Hannibal wasn't scared of the little boy behind him. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of the roses. He turned back to face Jack and snapped the largest bloom off. A quick twirl of black leathered fingers was given before the bloom was tucked carefully into the lapel. In a quiet voice almost as if it was a garden party he said, "Lovely roses Jack, they are very fragrant but I think that a large carp planted among the roots could make them much better." 

A slow intention look is given to the gold Rolex on his wrist. Before he granted a look down to Sam. His voice sounded very relaxed as he turned to face Jack. "Well being as the good Doctor has 26 minutes to get to a hospital or she dies let's get on with this shall we?" 

  
  


Jack glared at Hannibal a barely suppressed wave of alarm washing over him. 'Explain yourself.' 

"Why did I stutter? I have given her a lethal combination of drugs which will kill her in now 24 minutes so I suggest you hurry, boy." 

  
  


"I do however have the antidote, that is if you are a good little boy and beg for it." He pulls out a small Syringe. 

  
  


'Really? Do you expect me to believe that?' Jack asked, condescendingly. 

"Well if you prefer we can sit here and wait but have I ever been known to lie to you Jack?"'I'm not taking any chances."

  
  


A slow malicious grin spread over his face as he placed his hand behind his back moving into a classic defense position. He was in no hurry to kill the girl below, she didn't matter to him at all. Jack would have to be the one to thrust first but the harpy was held between two fingers at the ready to kill this little fool. 

  
  


'What did you give her?' Jack asked, his voice cold and threatening. 

. "It doesn't really matter" 

  
  


'We'll see about that.' 

  
  


Once more Hannibal gave that grotesque baring of teeth and looked pointy at his watch then to Jack the dare shining like a reflection in those crimson eyes. Still he looked to Sam before making a small pitying noise deep within his throat. The whole time he kept Jack in his line of view almost willing him to give it his best shot. 

  
  


Sliding a hand to grasp the hunting knife strapped to his back, Jack lunged toward Hannibal slicing the knife in a wide arc at chest height. The knife slashed through the white shirt leaving behind a shallow wound in Hannibal's chest

  
  


Hannibal looked down quickly at the tiny rent in his flesh and carefully touched the black leather glove to it. The fingers were drawn to his lips and that long red tongue darted out to taste the warm crimson that causes life. Then he quickly darts the harpy into Jack's fleshy hand a small puncture blooming at the base of his palm. 

  
  


Jack growled feeling the warm trickle of blood. 'You'll regret that.'He thrust the knife out intent on stabbing Hannibal in the chest. Hannibal slid over to one side the knife piercing his left shoulder. 

The blow was carefully missed and Hannibal darted around with remarkable dexterity as he came and took a small piece of flesh from just below the kidneys under the leather of his body suit. The amount was small but he slid into his mouth anyway and announced, "Well Jack I was right you do taste like chicken!" 

Jack spun around and sliced the blade towards Hannibal's left hand. The knife slid through the soft flesh of his forearm with a spray of blood. 

Hannibal's narrowed his eyes slightly at the gushing blood and turned to face the fool head on. He flashed his teeth at Jack almost like an animal and the harpy was stuck deep into Jack's thigh while his teeth went for his neck. The games were over and now the real battle had begun. 

Pain flared as the harpy blade sliced the muscle. Suddenly remembering the real danger of Hannibal Lecter and seeing him bare his teeth, Jack ducked and slid past Hannibal his knife cutting into Hannibal's side.

  
  


Hannibal's thrust had be knocked astray but he didn't notice the blood that was now running down his side. He spun about quickly the harpy darting forward with deadly precision to Jack's neck. The time ticked by as he circled about him making the small darts towards him keeping him off balance as the clock kept it's deadly march.` 

Samantha opened her eyes to find the room beginning to return to normal. She looked up and saw a person in white hanging on a cross. After a few minutes, she realized it was Clarice. She could here some sort of struggle coming from the back of the church; however, when she looked back, all she could see were two figures fighting in the loft. 

  
  


She stood up and swayed for a moment keeping her balance. She had to get Clarice down from the suspended cross. She took a step forward and stumbled finally catching her balance after knocking over a six foot iron candelabra. She didn't notice the fire that started to spread across the floor as she slowly made her way up to the altar. She stumbled on the steps knocking over more candles. The fire, starting slowly, began to pick up speed and moved quickly along the floor and up the walls. 

  
  


Clarice stared slowly at Sam as she walked towards her, feeling the heat of the fire against her bare toes. It didn't seem quite real but she had to warn Sam anyway. Her voice sounded rusty even to her own ears and some deep-seeded voice told her that there was no way she was getting out of this. But still her father's voice in her head spurned her on. "Sam hurry please hurry there's a fire and I'm all tied up under here."

  
  


With every movement of her body the cross shook on it's flimsy ropes and the fire that climbed the wall was reflected in her eyes. She rocked back and forth irrationally to get herself away from the fire but it didn't work. Her voice took on a new note as the drug's effects once again hit her like a wave making the whole world blurry. "Please hurry we gotta get out of here."

  
  


The smoke hit her in waves and she coughed praying for Sam to work faster. Her eyes were caught by the odd dance in the choir loft and she wondered if they knew that the flames were sliding ever closer to the battle ground. Her head rolled to one side as she looked down for what ever Sam was doing.

  
  


Sam shook her head quickly willing the drug to clear faster. She knew what she had to do. Tripping over her Gucci shoes, she managed to feel her way over the altar's marbled top, finding the crystal dish that seemed to profane it. She raised it high over her hand and smashed it to the floor. 

  
  


Clarice's eyes opened at the crash and she felt a strange heat in her arm. A low gasp was given as she saw the fire burning through the rope that held the right side of the cross. She willed herself not to tremble, knowing her movement would make it worse. Her voice was almost a whisper, "Sam, I'm catching on fire please hurry."

  
  


Sam seemed almost hypnotized by the patterns that the fire was making on the cut glass. She shook herself out of it slowly and turned just in time to see the cross turn over on it's side and to hear Clarice's scream. She climbed quickly to top of the altar and carefully sliding the shard of glass through the orange cord that bound Clarice. 

  
  


Clarice's eyes were caught to the roof, as small pieces of ash started to rain down on them. No thought was given to the killers in the loft all she wanted to do was get her and Sam the hell out. "Hurry, Sam, the roof is about to fall in."

  
  


Hannibal went quickly to the side, hearing Clarice's cry for help. He leaned over quickly, the fire almost seeming to leap out his eyes. He knew that he couldn't leave her survival to that little blond piece of fluff. He had to get to her himself. As soon as Jack saw Hannibal lean out over the railing, he came up quickly behind Hannibal and lifted him and pushed him over the railing. 

  
  


Hannibal wasn't shocked when he felt the air rush by him. The instant to the floor seemed like forever as the thoughts flashed through his mind. It was his own fault, she was his heel. Mentally he shrugged and knew that no matter what else she would live through this. A picture was frozen in his mind and stayed there as his world turned to black. Clarice's finger touching his own.

  
  


As soon as Hannibal fell over the railing, the balcony shook as the supports burned. Jack watched as Hannibal fell the twenty feet to the floor to land hard on his back. As the floor lurched and tilted beneath his feet, he looked up to see Samantha standing on top of the altar using the broken crystal to cut the orange electrical cord. He watched as the fire began to lick at the remaining rope and the marble beneath her feet. 

  
  


He gripped the railing as the balcony finally collapsed. "Samantha!"

The fire seemed to draw ever closer as the bonds were slowly cut. Clarice almost whimpered seeing the person fall but she couldn't tell Sam that there was to much time to lose. Finally she felt the rounds of cord fall free from her body and she looked up to see that the roof was starting to fall in. Sam looked around quickly knowing that she had heard Jack calling her. Quickly Clarice grabbed Sam's hand and made for the side entrance that her and the Doctor had come in.

  
  


Sam was choking now that the adrenaline was starting to slow. Her heels seemed to slide out from under her as she stumbled, her hands tight on Clarice's. Just behind them a pillar had fallen and Sam feel down and rolled to the side. Clarice was coughing to as she felt Sam's hand rip from her own. She knew she should get out but she couldn't leave Sam alone in that thick black smoke and so once more she started looking for her.

  
  


Sam was about to pass out her lungs ripping in her effort to breath. Sleep seemed the best thing for her right now. She had almost laid back when she heard that voice in her ear. She wanted to struggle up and hit at Clarice as she grabbed her arm. "Come on Sam, we're getting the hell out of here."

  
  


And somehow they made their way to the exit and out into the fresh air.

  
  


They huddled together more for warmth then anything else, the heat from the burning building not quite reaching within were they needed it. Two pairs of blue eyes were trailed on the building hoping that the monsters would come out, yet praying that they wouldn't. The whole church was engulfed now and it seemed that nothing could live through it... but that had never stopped either one of them before.

  
  


Clarice finally spoke first her voice soft and hesitant, showing that she was younger and new to this. "Do you... do you think this is really over?" She sounded hopeful and yet almost regretful somehow. Sam smiled bitterly, her tear filled eyes still searching the flames. Her voice was soft and bitter.

  
  


"It's never really over." And somewhere in the distance a wail of a siren was heard.


End file.
